Cassidy, my family’s seventeen year old alley cat, died Thursday afternoon.
In 1993, Dana and WT, my godmother and her husband were going on vacation. Just before leaving, someone told WT about a kitten that had been found. Someone must have kicked the kitten because it was walking badly and couldn’t meow. Since Dana and WT already had two cats, they asked my family to take pick up the kitten. (We were feeding Tippy and Samantha, their cats, anyhow.) I was about to finish sixth grade.
Upon seeing the little thing, we weren’t sure it was even feline. Yet, we took the kitten home. After he made it through the night, we discovered that we had a sweet little green-eyed boy. When he had been with us a few more days, we named him Cassidy, Irish for clever.
Some months later, we took in Savannah, a half Siamese , totally crazy kitten. Eventually, Cassidy came to tolerate her.
He healed, became a thirteen-pounder, and grew into one of my closest friends. While he wasn’t much of a lap kitty, Cassidy was often at my side – greeting me when I came home, keeping me company when I was sick, helping me finish my food, and sleeping between the bedside table and me.
In August, Savannah died. Cassidy became an only cat again. The months since, Cassidy became sweeter. He liked to rest his paws on our forearms, forgetting that his claws go through human skin. Cassidy even sat in a few laps!
This past Tuesday, Cassidy didn’t say hello when I came home. When he was roused, Cassidy walked badly and seemed rather moody. Mom, Dad, and I prepared. I took many pictures. I held him Thursday morning before work as we prayed for his comfort.
I definitely miss him. We don’t plan to take in another cat for a long time. After all, we didn’t think the little guy would make it through that night in 1993. 🙂